Beyond the Sorting
by SlytherLynn
Summary: A series of drabbles about each student that was sorted at Hogwarts in the year 1991. Longbottom, Neville: Hello. She was beautiful... And she was still talking to him. "Neville, are you alright?"
1. Abbott, Hannah

**A series of drabbles about the students in Harry Potter's year at Hogwarts. My plan is to post one drabble each day. I hope you enjoy!**  
><strong>~SlytherLynn<strong>

_**Student: Hannah Abbot**_  
><em><strong>Prompt: Still<strong>_

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><p><em>Abbot, Hannah<em>

She had never sat completely still before. There was always some part of her moving at all times. As a child, her parents and called her the Wiggly Worm, a name that she had never found endearing. After all, when would a little girl ever wanted to be associated with worms?

Her mother had made up their own little game to keep her occupied when they had to wait for something. Mrs. Abbott would tap out a rhythm quietly with her foot, and Hannah would add her own rhythms with her hands, keeping her from squirming around. This had always earned glares from people around them, but Hannah never cared. She loved that her mother would fidget with her.

But now Mrs. Abbott was completely still. Her face was coated with make-up and she was wearing a dress that Hannah had never seen. She didn't even resemble the warm person whose smile would light up a room. It took all of Hannah's strength not to fall down and cry. She wanted to tell her mother how much she loved her and how she would fight against the Death Eaters just for her, but her grief kept her from doing anything she wanted.

So Hannah did the only thing she could think of.

She held her breath and froze every muscle in her body and tried to be the only thing that she could never be.

Still.

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><p><strong>Please leave me a <em>review<em> and let me know your thoughts! Thanks for reading! :)  
><strong>**~SL**


	2. Bones, Susan

**This one is a bit longer, and I don't like it as much, but it was fun to write. It also takes place during 5th year. Hope you enjoy!  
>~SlytherLynn<strong>

_**Student: Susan Bones**_  
><em><strong>Prompt: Panda<strong>_

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><p><em>Bones, Susan<em>

They probably wouldn't win the Quidditch Cup, but Hufflepuff had beat Slytherin and as always, a win resulted in a celebration.

"Are you sure that is pumpkin juice?" Hannah asked, eyeing Susan's glass suspiciously. It looked a little off-color and it was her third glass. Susan had never enjoyed pumpkin juice that much before. Hannah was almost convinced that someone had added Firewhiskey to it.

"Of course it is!" Susan defended, holding her glass close to her. She looked absolutely shocked that Hannah would even accuse her juice of being anything else. Susan would never do anything against the rules. Ever.

Just then, Ernie and Justin entered the common room, looking surprisingly sullen. Justin's robes were messed up and Ernie's eye was a dark shade of purple. They came over and sat down on the large plush couch with Hannah, ignoring the party around them. Hannah gasped when she saw Ernie's eye and quickly asked what happened.

"Crabbe and Goyle were upset about the match," Ernie started, "They called Justin a mudblood so I- Susan, what are you doing?"

In the mere seconds since they had sat down, Susan had run over to Ernie and studied his face closely. When she had finished her scrutiny, she stood up proudly and declared, "You look like a panda!"

"A panda?"

"Yeah!" Susan insisted, "Like the ones in China!"

"Ignore her," Hannah said, falling to the floor with a squeak when Susan suddenly pushed into her place on the couch. "Somebody spiked the pumpkin juice."

"I like pandas," Susan stated excitedly. She seemed to think for a moment before kissing Ernie soundly on the lips. She smiled wildly and proceeded to dash into the girls' dormitories, her braid trailing behind her.

Ernie seemed to be frozen and Justin was suddenly aware of Hannah laughing uncontrollably, holding Susan's pumpkin juice.

"What's wrong?" Justin asked, his worry for his friend growing.

Hannah smirked and held the glass out to Justin. "It's just plain pumpkin juice! Susan acted like that on purpose!" She winked and turned to Ernie.

"Do you want a bamboo shoot, Mr. Panda?"

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><p><strong>Please review! Thanks for reading! :)<strong>  
><strong>~SL<strong>


	3. Boot, Terry

**This one was inspired by the willingness of little kids to make friends. Enjoy!  
>~SlytherLynn<strong>

_**Student: Terry Boot**_  
><em><strong>Prompt: Lollipop<strong>_

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><p><em>Boot, Terry<em>

"Why are you crying?"

Terry looked up to see a girl with curly brown hair. She had dirt smudged on her cheeks and a sucker stick protruding from her mouth. Her hands were on her hips and Terry was slightly afraid of the determination in her eyes. He tried to reply, but the only thing to come out was a confused, "Huh?"

She sighed irritably. Boys were so slow sometimes. "I said, 'Why are you crying?'" She plopped down next to him on the grass and poked his arm. "Answer me."

Terry sniffled. "Well there are some kids at school. They called me a freak." He cringed at the word and dropped the girl's gaze.

"Why would they do that? You seem normal to me."

Terry shifted nervously. "I'm really smart." The girl looked at him, waiting for more of an explanation. "That's why."

The girl snorted and shook her curls out of her face. "Well that's stupid. You seem fun." She paused uncertainly. "I'm Rachel. Do you want to be my friend? I don't let anybody make fun of my friends." She pulled out a bright blue lollipop out of her pocket and shoved it in his face. "If you take this, we are officially friends."

Warily, Terry reached out and took the lollipop. "I'm Terry. But how can we be friends? We won't ever see each other after today."

Rachel scowled at him. "You think too much. We'll be friends because I say so. Just eat your lollipop, okay?"

Terry didn't know who she was and he knew he shouldn't be talking to people he didn't know. She scared him, but she was nice. He did as he was told.

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><p><strong> I thought it was cute. I just love little kids. :) Please review! I love feedback!<strong>  
><strong>~SL<strong>


	4. Brocklehurst, Mandy

**This one is a little longer... but I like it. :) Hope you do too!**  
><strong>~SlytherLynn<strong>

_**Student: Mandy Brocklehurst**_  
><em><strong>Prompt: Leather<strong>_

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><p><em>Brocklehurst, Mandy<em>

"Are you absolutely sure you wish to be a Healer? You must study very hard for your Potions O.W.L., Miss Brocklehurst." Mandy gave a small nod and Professor Flitwick continued speaking. "Of course, I'm sure you'll manage. Do you have any more questions?"

"No, sir," she said quietly.

"You are free to go then!" Professor Flitwick smiled as the girl jumped up from her chair and dashed to the door. "Oh, and Miss Brocklehurst! Happy Birthday!" Mandy paused in the doorway and gave him a small smile. He waved his hand and she fled back to her dormitory.

In the Ravenclaw tower, there was a small group of people gathered by the fireplace. On the table was a large birthday cake, decorated with a blue and bronze eagle. When Mandy entered, she was mobbed by a bunch of girls squealing, "Happy Birthday!" but she successfully dodged under them and walked towards the cake.

"Where in the world did you get a cake?"

"The house elves made it," said Morag, while she cut herself a large piece, "They get so excited when you ask them to make you food." She took bite of the cake and turned to Mandy. "So how'd your meeting with Flitwick go? Did you tell him that you want to be a writer?"

Mandy shook her head solemnly. "No, I said a Healer. It's much more practical." Morag rolled her eyes and offered Mandy a piece of cake. She took it gratefully and sat down on an armchair.

Suddenly, Lisa Turpin bounded into the room clutching a small brown package. "Look what came for the birthday girl!" She ran up to Mandy and shoved the package in her face. "Here! Open it!"

"Who's it from?" Mandy asked cautiously. She poked the package warily and looked for a name to indicate the sender.

Lisa leaned in and acted like she had the absolute best tidbit of gossip ever. "It's from _her_." There was a collective gasp from the girls, and absolute shock from Mandy.

She choked on her cake and spluttered in disbelief. "There is absolutely no way that my stepmother sent me a birthday present. What is it, poison?" Lisa sent her a glare and Mandy threw her hands up defensively. "I'm sorry; I'm not used to kindness from _her_. I'll open it."

The package was wrapped in simple brown paper and had a deep blue ribbon died around it. Mandy took her time, for she was not too eager to see what her stepmother had sent her. Cautiously, she pulled out a small book. It was bound in blue leather, and her name was etched into the front in bronze lettering. The book was filled with blank lined pages, just waiting to have a quill drawn across them. Tucked inside the front cover was a short note.

_Mandy,_

_I saw you looking at this when we went shopping for your school supplies. I know that you really like to write, and I hope that you will write in this book, even though it is from me. I wish that we would get along better, and I'd like to think this gift as a promise that we'll try again. Have a happy birthday._

_Love, Mom_

Mandy was speechless. She didn't know that her stepmom actually _cared_ about her interests. Most days, they just ignored each other. She stared hard the the small book and hardly noticed the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Mandy, are you okay?" asked one of her worried friends, Mandy couldn't tell who.

"It's leather, real leather." She smiled softly and hugged the book to her chest. "It's perfect."

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><p><strong>Please <em>review<em>! I'd love to hear your thoughts! :)**  
><strong>~SL<strong>


	5. Brown, Lavender

**I would like to apologize that this was not up yesterday. My computer was having problems. But now I'm using my laptop, and Millicent's should be up tonight. Enjoy!**  
><strong>~SlytherLynn<strong>

_**Student: Lavender Brown**_  
><em><strong>Prompt: Pearl<strong>_

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><p><em>Brown, Lavender<em>

"Lavender, would you please remove you necklace from my line of sight? I am trying to read."

Lavender frowned at Hermione and huffed. "They are real pearls. My grandfather got them for me." Hermione rolled her eyes and continued to read. "He told me that they would attract even more boys. They like expensive things.

Parvati looked at her bewilderedly. "I think that would only work if the boy was a pureblooded Slytherin." Lavender sent her a look that clearly meant 'be quiet' and turned back to Hermione.

"Speaking of boys," she started furtively, "Do you have any special boys in mind this year, Hermione?" Hermione's cheeks went red and made a point to ignore the blonde. "Are you sure? Because if there is a boy, I could help you-"

"I would not need your help even if there was a boy!" Hermione snapped, shutting her book furiously, "And if you refuse to give me peace, I'm going to the common room to read!" She stomped out of the room in a flurry of robes and hair, leaving a shocked Lavender and a giggling Parvati.

"You didn't have to make her mad," Parvati reasoned, "You know who she likes. It's painfully obvious."

"Of course I know! She has clearly liked Weasley for for_ever_. And I'm positive that he likes her too. They just need to realize it." She looked at herself in the mirror, deep in thought. Suddenly, her eyes lit up and a smile formed on her face. "Parvati, what is the easiest way to make someone realize their feelings?"

"Am I supposed to know?" she asked, confusion sweeping across her features.

Lavender smiled widely. "Jealousy. When another girl dates Ron and Hermione is jealous, she'll realize that she has to go after him."

"You mean that someone is going to pretend to like Ron? Who would do that?"

Lavender clasped the pearls behind her neck and let the necklace fall across her collar bone. "I am, of course. After all, I'm an amazing actress." She blew a kiss at the mirror and smirked. "Watch out Ronald Weasley, you are about to see the best performance that Hogwarts has ever seen."

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><p><strong>Oh Lavender... :) Please <em>review<em>!**  
><strong>~SL<strong>


	6. Bulstrode, Millicent

_**Student: Millicent Bulstrode**_  
><em><strong>Prompt: Wedding<strong>_

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><p><em>Bulstrode, Millicent<em>

Millicent was angry. To most, she seemed to be angry often, as she enjoyed using brute force, but she was only angry around Gryffindors. They annoyed her. But there was no Gryffindor in sight. She was angry because her mother had forced her to attend a wedding.

A wedding. Revolting.

Weddings are supposed to be happy occasions, right? Well, it certainly didn't feel that way. She had even forgotten which number wedding this would be for Mrs. Zabini. She didn't even know the poor bloke's name. She just knew what everyone else in the room, except the groom, probably suspected.

He would be dead soon.

The groom wasn't of any importance to Millicent though. She hated weddings for an entirely different reason. It forced her to think of her own wedding, which according to her mother, might never even happen. Such encouraging words for a mother to say.

Millicent knew she wasn't pretty. She _knew_ that. Her mother knew that. And she was just a half-blood. No respectable pure-blood would marry a half-blood, unless they were extremely beautiful, of course.

Millicent's mother elbowed her and snapped at her to pay attention. She looked at the altar just in time to see the couple kiss. She pointedly turned her head in any direction _but_ the altar and noticed all the fake smiles on everybody's faces.

Except for one.

Gregory Goyle was in her year at Hogwarts. They were friendly with each other, and she thought he was quite funny. He _smiled_ when he saw her, a pure genuine smile. Millicent blushed and quickly looked away.

Maybe weddings weren't all that bad.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it! Please <em>review<em>!**  
><strong>~SlytherLynn<strong>


	7. Corner, Michael

_**Student: Michael Corner**_  
><em><strong>Prompt: Pomp<strong>_

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><p><em>Corner, Michael<em>

Michael didn't really understand everyone's obsession with the Triwizard Tournament. Yes, there was international bonding time, but the tournament itself was somewhat sickening. Three teenagers, in this case four, were sent to what could possibly be their deaths. And for what? Money. Sure, there were many precautions put into place, but even Albus Dumbledore can't foresee everything bad that could happen.

First there had been the dragons. They had students fight dragons. Michael had looked around at everyone cheering, and suddenly had felt like the only sane person in the entire arena. Did none of them realize that someone could actually die? Was society really returning to such barbaric pleasures? That's why Michael loved Quidditch. It was controlled and mostly safe.

Then there had been the task in the lake. Michael was almost convinced that Harry had drowned. He thought for a moment that the crowd had realized what their need for entertainment had caused. But then Harry emerged, just like it seemed he always did. The crowd cheered. Had there ever been any doubt?

And now they were at the maze. The champions were about to enter a dark labyrinth with untold dangers. Michael looked around at all the celebrations and frowned. He felt like he had entered the ancient Roman Colosseum and was waiting for the gladiators to fight to the death. Utterly disgusted with the crowd around him, Michael got up and began leaving the stands.

"Michael? Where are you going?" asked Cho, one of his best friends, "Don't you want to watch Cedric?"

"I'm going back to the castle. I can't stand being a part of this-" he searched for the word and grimaced. "Pomp. If somebody dies tonight, I can honestly say I had no part in celebrating the thing that caused their death." He left a stunned Cho in the stands, and returned to the safety of Ravenclaw Tower.

When the Tournament had ended and he found out about Cedric, he wasn't surprised that he was the first person Cho ran to for comfort. The pomp had disappeared, leaving bitterness and death in its wake, just like Michael had thought.

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><p><strong>The idea of the tournament had always sickened me... I hope you liked it. Please <strong>_reveiw_**!**  
><strong>~SlytherLynn<strong>


	8. Cornfoot, Stephen

**_Student: Stephen Cornfoot_**  
><strong><em>Prompt: May<em>**

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><p><em>Cornfoot, Stephen<em>

Stephen's aunt had been killed in the war. He didn't know what her name was, but he knew that she was Mother's sister. Father said that ever since then, Mother had been overprotective. Stephen was never allowed to do anything.

He remembers the morning that his acceptance letter to Hogwarts came. He was eating his traditional (_safe_) breakfast of oatmeal, when an owl came and tapped on the window. It wasn't a surprise because Stephen had been showing magical abilities for some time. Even so, Mother frowned when she saw the owl. Stephen had always felt that she wanted him to be a squib. _(It would be safer than risking his life fighting dark magic.)_

Father was so proud. He promised to take him shopping for school supplies within the week, but Stephen knew that this would not be unless Mother gave him approval.

Stephen carefully handed her the letter. He watched her eyes scour over it, as if looking for a reason to disprove its authenticity. He certainly hoped it would pass her inspection, because going to Hogwarts was his dream. _(Isn't it supposed to be the safest place in Wizarding Britain?)_

The paper slowly fluttered to the table and Mother's eyes met his, shining with unshed tears. Stephen plucked up all his courage and cleared his throat. "May I go?" He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, not used to Mother scrutinizing him like this. She sighed mournfully and looked out the window as the sun rose fully above the horizon.

"Yes. You may." _(I cannot keep you safe for much longer.)_

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><p><strong>If you read this, please review. I'd really love to hear your feedback. :)<strong>  
><strong>~SlytherLynn<strong>


	9. Crabbe, Vincent

**I just realized that I have not yet said a disclaimer. So, I do not own any of the characters in Harry Potter. They belong to JK Rowling.  
>~SL<strong>

_**Student: Vincent Crabbe**_  
><em><strong>Prompt: Nothing<strong>_

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><p><em>Crabbe, Vincent<em>

His mother thought that he had a problem. She said that he couldn't feel anything. Vincent disagreed. That comment had made him sad. Just a little.

Nothing. Life was a whole lot of nothing. Vincent would often take things to the extreme, trying to finally feel something. Whenever he did, the feeling eventually just faded back to a dull nothingness.

He tried to obtain pleasure through eating. Sometimes, after a feast with many desserts, he would feel full and even maybe happy. But the night would end, and he would go back to his life of boring nothing.

Then the Carrows came. They taught him how to do spells that even the Gryffindors wouldn't do. Suddenly, he felt appreciated. He would torture students regularly to keep the feeling of power inside him. He didn't want to lose it. Whenever it seemed to wane, he would learn how to cause pain in new ways. He didn't want to go back to the emptiness of nothing.

He was so angry that night. Angry that Harry Potter was still alive and angry that Draco kept telling him what to do like he was still that idiotic first year. Vincent wanted Potter to be dead, so he cast the spell. He was so smart, casting a spell that even that mudblood couldn't stop. He would destroy them.

He felt the heat on his body and for the first time in his life, he felt real terror. He realized that he wasn't just destroying the enemy, he was destroying himself. He had never bothered to learn how to stop the FiendFyre. The flames engulfed him, sending a searing pain throughout his entire body.

But eventually, the pain turned into nothing.

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><p><strong>And he died... Please review! I love feedback! :)<strong>  
><strong>~SlytherLynn<strong>


	10. Davis, Tracey

**_Student: Tracey Davis_**  
><strong><em>Prompt: Pageantry<em>**

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><p><em>Davis, Tracey<em>

"I really shouldn't be here." Tracey gulped and looked around at the party. Every woman there, including herself, was dressed in an elegant evening gown and every man was wearing a suit. There were fine glasses of wine and food that was so fancy that Tracey didn't know the names of. People either dined at glorious round tables or danced to a classic waltz.

Pageantry. It was the only way to describe it. The glamorous spectacle of a Christmas Eve Ball was certainly an old tradition. But she was an unrespectable half-blood, who didn't belong at this high society event.

"Yes, you should," Theodore insisted, "Blaise invited you because you are a friend. And besides that, you are my date and you are _not_ leaving me alone." He pushed her forward gently, causing her to trip on the hem of her sleek green dress. She just managed to grab onto Theodore's arm before she fell, and nervously fixed herself.

Tracey gave him a look that said 'I told you so' and stalked off to the wine table, muttering, "If I consume enough alcohol, maybe I won't remember how much of a fool I'm going to look like."

The night seemed to get progressively worse. She never said the right things, and even though the war was over, there was still some clear blood prejudice. Tracey was extremely jealous of her friend Elizabeth Runcorn, who flitted from person to person, leaving smiles wherever she went. She came up to Tracey's table about half-way through the night, looking tired.

"Talking to people can be so exhausting," Elizabeth sighed, "How have you been holding up?" She tried to ignore Theodore's chuckles and looked at Tracey's exasperated face.

"I don't understand any of this pure-blood nonsense. Why in the world do I have three forks? I only need one!" She glared briefly at the guilty silverware and continued, "None of the people here like me."

"Nonsense!" Elizabeth scoffed, "I've talked to many people who think you are quite witty."

Theodore chimed in. "Besides, when have you ever cared about what other people think?"

Tracey stared at each of them in turn and dramatically clunked her head to the table, trying to ignore the looks she was getting. "The pageantry is getting to my head."

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><p><strong>I love Tracey. I hope you do too! Please <em>review<em>!**  
><strong>~SlytherLynn<strong>


	11. Entwhistle, Kevin

_**I sincerely apologize for the absence. My computer was taken away for a month. Took me awhile to get back in the writing mode. Not my best, but I still hope you enjoy it!**_  
><em><strong>~Slytherlynn<strong>_

_**Student: Kevin Entwhistle**_  
><em><strong>Prompt: Mind<strong>_

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><p><em>Entwhistle, Kevin<em>

Kevin climbed the stairs leisurely, going over all the historical facts he had just studied. He could never remember the differences between the goblin rebels. He would never use this information when he became a Healer.

At the top of the stairs, a first-year glared at the bronze eagle knocker. Kevin instantly felt pity, for he remembered when he would get stuck in front of the door because he couldn't answer a question. Standing there for what seemed like ages until another person came along. Plus, there was the feeling of humiliation when that person said the right answer and he had felt like he didn't belong in Ravenclaw.

He put his hand gently on the first-year's shoulder. "Excuse me, miss, but what's the question?" The girl looked at him in shock and instead of answering, pulled at the knocker instead.

"What is the mind?"

The mind? Kevin chuckled. To most, the question would provoke some thought, and the answer would be well reasoned. But for him, he could only think of one text-book answer.

"The mind is what the brain does."

"Indeed." The door swung inward and revealed the common room. The first-year lowered her head in shame, for the answer had seemed so easy. Kevin gave her shoulder a squeeze and smiled.

"My mom's a psychologist," he said, giving the first-year a gentle push into the common room. She stumbled forward nervously and turned to him with one question.

"What's a psychologist?"

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><p><em><strong>I know I have been gone...(SO SORRY)... but please still review! It's very important that I get feedback. :)<strong>_  
><em><strong>~SL<strong>_


	12. FinchFletchley, Justin

_**Prompt: Laughter**_

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><p><em>Finch-Fletchley, Justin<em>

As a child, Justin was teased quite often. It was probably because of his pompous attitude, but he would never admit to that. His mother had told him one simple thing: If they're laughing at you, laugh with them. Not only did it help him admit that he had faults, but everyone else quit laughing when they saw it didn't bother him at all.

So it proved one of the the most common sayings in life. Laughter is the best medicine.

Justin would use laughter to cheer people up, whether it was a sobbing housemate who'd just went through their first heartbreak or a scared first-year listening to stories of werewolves. He made people feel better, and that in itself made _him_ feel better.

But looking around now, at all the destruction, Justin didn't know what to do. He saw a barely breathing Lavender, with her face all bloody. He saw the entire Weasley clan huddled around a red-headed body, weeping over the life lost to them. He saw his former teacher, Professor Lupin, lying on the ground next to a girl with bright colored hair. They were completely still. Justin didn't even know her name.

People were dead. People were crying. Some would never be the same again.

And Justin doubted that laughter would help in any way.

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><p><strong>Please <em>review<em>! It encourages me to keep going! :)**  
><strong>~SlytherLynn<strong>


	13. Finnigan, Seamus

_**Prompt: Quaff**_

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><p><em>Finnigan, Seamus<em>

Seamus stumbled along the dark hallway, ignoring the complaining portraits as he held up his wand for more light. He wasn't quite sure where he was, but he was even less sure of how he'd managed to obtain a bottle of firewhiskey. The drink burned, but he was trying to forget what he'd seen. He firmly locked the memory in the back of his mind and tried to focus on how much trouble he was going to be in. If he was found wandering Hogwarts at night, intoxicated, he was certain that he would have detention for the rest of the year.

Up ahead he saw a figure sitting on a windowsill, reading a book by the light of the moon. The person was definitely a girl and Seamus recognized her immediately. It was Parvati. Hopefully she could take him back to the common room. He walked up to her confidently and went to tap on her shoulder.

"Wait, you're not Parvati."

The girl closed her book irritably and glared at the drunken Gryffindor. "Astute observation, Finnigan. Now go quaff that vile liquid somewhere else." Seamus gave her a blank look. He didn't understand what she had said. The girl sighed.

"Quaff: verb. To drink heartily, especially if the drink is intoxicating."

Seamus squinted his eyes, tilted his head and tried to figure out who he was talking to, ignoring the attempted vocabulary lesson. "You're Padma! Parvati's twin! You're a Ravenclaw."

She stood and glared at him. "And you're Seamus Finnigan, the Irish idiot who is completely besotted with Lavender Brown, or so I've been told." At the sound of the blonde's name, Seamus looked like he had been slapped. He began to mumble.

"Lavender… Ron… snogging… I didn't-"

Padma looked at the devastated boy and took pity on him. She put her hands on his shoulders and started to push him in the direction of the Gryffindor common room. She'd been there many times to see her sister. "Come on, lover boy. Drunkenly wandering the castle isn't going to help you win your lady back."

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><p><strong>Please review! I would be very greatful. :)<strong>  
><strong>~SlytherLynn<strong>


	14. Goldstein, Anthony

**Please review! Enjoy!  
>~SL<strong>

_**Prompt: Whisk**_

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><p><em>Goldstein, Anthony<em>

"What are you doing?" Anthony surveyed the room. Flour had exploded over the kitchen counter and there was a glob on the ceiling that looked suspiciously like batter. Natalie, his lovely wife-to-be, stood with her back to him. She was hunched over the stove, stirring something that vaguely resembled stew.

"It's called cooking, Anthony," she said, turning to face him while brandishing a whisk awfully close to his face. "And I would appreciate it if you leave me alone!"

He sighed. "Nat, I know you were raised by magical parents. You don't have to try cooking like a muggle."

"It's how your mother cooks!" she squealed defensively, "And my soup is turning out just fine." Before she could return to her soup, however, Anthony snatched the whisk from her hands.

"Do you even know what this is?"

Natalie looked slightly bewildered. "It's a stirrer, of course." She reached for the object again, but he held it easily out of her reach.

"It's called a whisk and it is _not_ used for stirring soup. And besides, with you wielding it, it could become a dangerous weapon." Anthony soon regretted his words when Natalie took out her wand, summoned the whisk, and proceed to use it to whack him on the head. He was right. In a witch's hands, a whisk was dangerous.


	15. Goyle, Gregory

**Hello! So this one went alot different than expected... but it's one of my favorites. Please enjoy and review!  
>~SL<strong>

**Prompt: Upon**

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><p><em>Goyle, Gregory<em>

_**Once upon a time they were kids. **_

They knew what made each other happy and when they were sad. They helped each other with school work. She did most of the helping, of course. He taught her all the best fighting moves. She was the only one who could make him smile for real. They were best friends. Well, as best friends as a little boy and girl can be.

_**Once upon a time they were teenagers. **_

They shyly realized that what they had could be more than friendship. It was months before she got him to go on an actual date with her. The first kiss was awkward, but pleasant. They complimented each other nicely. Neither one liked to be affectionate in public, which some of their friends thought was just odd. But they were happier than they'd ever been. They were together. Maybe they were even in love.

_**Once upon a time they were adults.**_

They were both frightened, but of different things. He was afraid of the Dark Lord's wrath. She was just afraid of him. They began to feel distant. He helped the Carrows with detention. She stayed unnoticeable to others, keeping as neutral as possible. He found joy in causing pain. She found disgust in him. But at first, she refused to leave him. She thought he could change for the better. He thought she was still smitten with him. They were wrong, but they stayed together.

_**Once upon a time, she left him.**_

He was going to detention to torture a rule-breaker. She tried to stop him by offering him a choice. It was either her, or the Dark Lord. She didn't understand. He had no choice. So she walked away, hiding her tears from everyone but him. After all, he always knew when she was sad. The rule-breaker in detention had never felt such pain.

_**Once upon a time, he realized he still loved her.**_

It wasn't until he saw her cold body that he knew he always had. She'd tried to stop some of the Death Eaters from torturing the Slytherins into joining them. They killed without a second thought. He wonders if they would have been merciful if they had known of his affections. But somehow, he already knows the answer.

_Millicent, I'm so sorry._

_**Once upon a time, he never had the happily ever after.**_

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><p><strong>...<strong>


	16. Granger, Hermione

**_Prompt: Jellybean_**

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><p><em>Granger, Hermione<em>

"Eat it!"

"Absolutely not, Ronald."

"Come on, Hermione. It's a jellybean. A perfectly harmless jellybean."

"I do not think that Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans should be considered harmless. I believe the last time I ate one, it tasted like parchment."

"Well this one is obviously not parchment. It's brown! I ate one this colour once. It was chocolate. Help me out here, Harry."

"I am not going to say anything on the subject. I, for one, am not willing to risk the chance of Hermione hexing me."

"Thank you, Harry. Now Ron-"

"Hermione, where's your sense of Gryffindor courage!"

"Let us not confused courage with stupidity. For all I know, it could easily be dirt or manure flavoured."

"Ow! No need to throw-"

"This one, on the other hand, has a good chance of being either cherry or strawberry. See the nice red colour?"

"I don't think that's straw- don't spit it at me!"

"Blood!"

"I told you to eat the chocolate one."

"Is that even legal?"

"Don't bother, Ron. That one was probably manure."

"Shut up, Harry."

"Surely this isn't aloud. Ron! Stop laughing!"

"I'm sorry, it's just- stop hitting me!"

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><p><strong>This is my attempt at a dialogue only chapter. Please review and tell me how I did!<strong>  
><strong>~SL<strong>


	17. Greengrass, Daphne

**I sincerely apologize for the long absence. I really need to stop getting in trouble. But I will not bore you with excuses. Anyway, this is a short one, but in the future (after this story is done) I may expand it into a longer one-shot. :) Enjoy!**  
><strong>~SL<strong>

_**Prompt: Dance**_

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><p><em>Greengrass, Daphne<em>

Some people told her that dancing was an odd hobby for witches, but Daphne never cared. In a world where she had to keep her feelings to herself, she managed to express herself through dance. Dancing was the most important thing in her life.

She was happy – so she danced.

She fell in love – so she danced.

She was heartbroken – so she danced.

They told her that she would never be more than a housewife – so she danced.

She looked at the miserable Slytherins around her. At any moment, a Death Eater could come for them, and force them to join the Dark Lord's side. She knew Millicent was ready to stand her ground and fight to the death, but what hope did the younger kids have? Everyone refused to talk and Daphne could feel their hope slipping away. There was nothing else she could do.

So she danced.

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><p><strong>Please review! It really encourages me to stop stalling and put the next chapter up. :)<strong>  
><strong>~SL<strong>


	18. Hopkins, Wayne

**I don't really know how the British investigation system works, so I based this chapter on what I've seen on TV (which usually isn't very accurate, stupid Hollywood). I've always wondered what would happen in a situation like this. Voldemort killed alot of people. Surely he framed others for some of the murders? **  
><strong>~SlytherLynn<strong>

_**Prompt: Alibi **_

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><p><em>Hopkins, Wayne<em>

_"John Hopkins and Katherine Hopkins. Found in their home. Bled to death from multiple slashes across their body."_

Inspector Watts glanced up from the file in his hand and back to his suspect. Every bone in his body screamed that this was not his culprit. He simply couldn't believe that a seventeen year old boy from a completely normal background could commit a double homicide. Especially since the victims were the boy's parents.

"Mr. Hopkins," the inspector began, "Can you please tell me where you were three nights ago? Give me the truth this time."

The boy shifted his bright blue eyes over to the lawyer that was provided for him and waited for her to nod. Sharon Nettles, who took the case because the boy looked so honest, dipped her head slightly and motioned for the boy to answer.

"My name is Wayne," he started, looking the inspector directly in the eye to show his confidence. "Mr. Hopkins is-," his breath hitched, and he corrected his mistake, "-was my dad. And I told you the truth! I was still at school. I didn't get back for winter holidays until yesterday."

"And what school is this?"

His shoulders slumped. "I can't say. But you have to believe me! I would never hurt my parents! I love them! They're the only family I have! And he took them away from me!"

Inspector Watts raised his eyebrow curiously. "Who took them away?"

Wayne looked like he was about to leap from his chair. Only his lawyer's firm grip kept him from standing. "He-who-must-not-be-named! The Dark Lord! You-Know-Who!" Realization dawned on him as he saw the confusion on both of the adults' faces. Tears began to well up in his eyes.

Watts coughed awkwardly and flipped through the report. "We have multiple witnesses that saw you entering the house the night of-"

"You don't understand, do you? He can give people those memories! He can control them!" Sharon tried desperately to calm the boy down. Something in her client seemed to have snapped. "You want to know my alibi? I'm a wizard! I was at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! I was defying him! I defied him so he killed my parents! It's all my fault!" The boy collapsed onto the table, his frame shaking with sobs.

Sharon grimaced at the sobbing boy and turned to the inspector, a sad look in her eyes. "My client will plead insanity."

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><p><strong>Scary. Why am I so mean to the Hufflepuffs? Please review! I would really appreciate constructive criticism. Or even just a hi. :)<strong>  
><strong>~SL<strong>


	19. Jones, Megan

**_Prompt: Not_**

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><p><em>Jones, Megan<em>

"Hello, my name is Megan and I'm not a Weasley."

It was an unusual way to introduce yourself to someone, but Megan felt it was effective. Personally, she didn't have any problems with the Weasley family. They seemed like a jovial lot and had a reputation for being kind people. Megan was actually distantly related to them. (Of course, unless you are a Muggle born, there is a good chance that you're distantly related to all the pureblood families.) But it was their knack of producing red-headed offspring that annoyed her so much.

As a child, Megan loved her hair. She would take special care of it and parade it in front of her friends. She enjoyed being able to say that she was different. Her hair made her special. But that was before Hogwarts.

She didn't understand why the student body was convinced that only Weasley family members could have red hair. The trait wasn't _that_ rare. Yet every time she would meet somebody new, they immediately assumed she was a Weasley. Even when she told them her last name was Jones.

So she tried to express her house pride. She'd wear yellow and black ribbons in her hair and constantly wrote 'Hufflepuff' on her hands, because everyone knew that all the Weasley kids were in Gryffindor. Megan was proud of her idea and was convinced that it had finally worked until she heard, "I didn't know there was a Weasley in Hufflepuff."

It seemed that she would be forever doomed to introduce herself as 'not a Weasley.'

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><p><strong>I wish I had this problem! Please review! Your feedback keeps me going! :)<strong>  
><strong>~SL<strong>


	20. Li, Su

**I read the original class list that has been released on pottermore... I realize that some of my characters will not fit perfectly into this list. (For example, she has an Oliver Rivers, while mine is Olivia Rivers) But that is why it is fanfiction! Also, this drabble (more like a mini-oneshot) evolved into something much bigger in my head... a possible future chapter fic. :) Enjoy!**

_**Prompt: Invisible**_

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><p><em>Li, Su<em>

When the blindfold was removed from her eyes, Su found herself in a small concrete room, with no evidence of a door. She was sitting in a steel chair, that after trying to move it, she discovered was attached to the floor. She had no idea where her wand was, and even if she did, she wouldn't have been able to do any magic, as her hands were tied firmly behind her back.

_Crack_! A young man wearing a simple black robe appeared in front of her. She immediately noticed that he was carrying two wands, one of which was her own blackthorn.

"I demand that you untie me and give me back my wand," she spat vehemently, "You have no right to keep me here."

The man chuckled. "In fact, we do, Miss Li. What makes a simple translator at the Department of International Magical Cooperation want to commit such grandiose crimes?"

She gave him a curious glance. "If you a referring to the artwork, I would not consider that a crime. I was merely – retrieving them from unworthy owners." She smiled innocently at the man, "Didn't all those paintings end up in the museums they had been originally taken from?"

"Of course," the man nodded, "After they paid you a large sum of money. But alas, we are not here to discuss your possible imprisonment. This is a job interview."

Su was suddenly very interested in what the man had to say, but easily gave off an air of indifference. "You certainly have an unique way of collecting your applicants. You drugged me. It seems like such an archaic thing for a wizard to do. Who are you?"

The man gave her a lopsided grin. "Miss Li, I am part of the Invisibles, a secret organization run by the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. You could say that I am a wizard spy."

"What is-"

"The Invisibles are made up of one representative from each of the countries that are part of the Confederation. There is currently an opening for an English Invisible. Do you accept?"

"I don't underst-"

"Miss Li, if you do not accept you will never learn what an Invisible does and we will wipe this conversation from your memory and you will return to your life as a common translator and thief. Do you accept?" The man was suddenly serious, all of his earlier casualness seemed to evaporate.

Su paused. She had no idea who this person was, what an Invisible was, or why they were offering this job to her. She did know being invisible was one of her many talents and being part of a secret organization sounded exciting.

She shrugged. "Why not?"

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><p><strong>Dun dun duuunn... What exactly is an Invisible? I imagine an international James Bond. ;) Please review!<strong>  
><strong>~SL<strong>


	21. Longbottom, Neville

**I'm back! College apps are DONE. You can now expect more regular updates. :) ~SL**

_**Prompt: Hello**_

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><p><em>Longbottom, Neville<em>

"Hi, Neville."

He hadn't seen her since that day she found out her mother died. She hadn't come back to school at all that year, and he had heard rumors that she had to redo her sixth year while the rest of her classmates were in their seventh.

She looked older. Not just physically, (though Neville hadn't remembered her curves being quite that distracting before) but mentally older. Her brown eyes had lost that shine of innocence. Her hair was no longer pulled up into those (adorable) pigtails, but fell is messy waves over her shoulders. Her voice was softer, not the loud tone that always had a point to be made. She carried a new weight on her shoulders, and he wanted to do nothing else but help her with it.

She was beautiful.

And she was still talking to him.

"Neville, are you alright?"

He jumped slightly, realizing that he had not been listening. "What?"

She chuckled slightly and shook her head. "I asked if you were alright. You seem kind of distracted. Is there something wrong?"

"Yes," he blurted, "I mean no. I mean maybe, but-" He stopped himself before he said anything stupid. _Get a grip, Neville_, he thought. _You've been friends with this girl for years, just ignore the fact that she's breathtaking and say something!_

"Hello, Hannah!" he finally managed to get out of his suddenly constricted throat.

The corners of her mouth twitched upward. "Hello, Neville. It's nice to see you, too."

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><p><strong>Please review! Reviews keep my confidence level up and encourage me to write. :) Thanks for reading!<strong>  
><strong>~SL<strong>


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